


A Marriage of Convenience

by RuntotheForest



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25734163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuntotheForest/pseuds/RuntotheForest
Summary: Long hours mean lots of time spent together.  (set sometime well after S3)
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 76
Kudos: 231





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third Broadchurch fic. I am a shameless shipper, so if you've read my previous two fics, you shouldn't be surprised by this. This was going to be a single chapter, but I'm finding that I end up writing more than I intend to. Sorry. :-)

When Ellie awoke, she wasn’t quite sure where she was. The light of a single lamp blinded her, and an afghan had been tucked around her. This wasn’t her own bed. Even in her sleepy haze she knew that. As her eyes started to focus, she saw him sitting in a chair beneath the lamp, glasses perched on his nose, legs stretched out, an open file in his lap. 

_That’s right_ , she remembered, she was at Hardy’s, on his sofa. The memories of earlier in the evening were becoming clearer – takeout boxes were still on the table, cold or empty mugs of tea occupied various surfaces throughout Hardy’s front room, and case files littered the floor and coffee table.

_Christ, what time is it?_ she wondered, although she was too drowsy and comfortable to care all that much. She pulled the blanket closer and snuggled into it, peeking at Hardy through her heavy lids.

He was wearing that blue jumper that she secretly loved (but would never tell him), and dark blue trousers. He had long ago discarded his shoes, and she watched him shift in his chair so one stocking foot was resting atop a knee. His hair was disheveled and flopped over his eyes, and periodically he would run his hand through it absently. She found his presence comforting, like a warm fire keeping the room filled with heat.

She also found him ridiculously attractive. But this was _definitely NOT_ something she would ever tell him.

She rustled a bit to let him know she was awake. “What time is it?” she yawned. He looked up then and gave a slight smile.

“Almost 2.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About two hours.”

“What?? Why didn’t you wake me up? You were just going to let me sleep until all hours?”

Hardy closed the file and put it on the coffee table. “I thought you needed the rest. You looked tired.”

Ellie sat up and brushed her hair out of her face. “Well, I _am_ tired. So are you. Why are you still awake?”

He looked at her levelly over the top of his glasses, but didn’t respond.

“Right, I forgot, you never sleep. You never eat either. How you actually survive life on earth without any type of rest or sustenance is beyond me”

“I’m not human, remember? You tell me that often enough.”

She ignored him. “Well, have you at least made any progress on the case?”

He shook his head. “Not recently. I’m at the point where I keep reading the same paragraph again and again. Time to call it a night, I suppose.”

She yawned again and sat up. “I best be getting home before my father sends out a search party.” She gave a dry chuckle and rubbed her eyes.

“I’ll drive you,” said Hardy. I don’t want you nodding off on the way home.”

“You knob, I drove _my_ car over here.”

Hardy stood up. “I’ll drive your car to yours and walk back home.”

“In the middle of the night?? Are you daft?”

“Come on, Miller, let’s get going.” He stood up and reached out a hand to help her up. She looked at it with a raised eyebrow before finally taking it. As Hardy pulled her off the sofa, she lost her balance slightly, and he caught her in his arms. She looked up at him, surprised, then immediately brushed him off and pulled away.

“I’m fine. If you insist on driving me, let’s go.”

She walked to the door with purpose, trying to hide her attempts to slow down her breathing. And then there was the matter of _his arms around her_. She was going to have a hard time forgetting that. 

\-----------------

The next morning at work, she stepped into the kitchenette to make herself some tea, and as usual, made a second, extra-strong cup for Hardy. As she was fixing the tea, DC Katie Harford appeared, fishing a yoghurt from the fridge. Harford wasn’t Ellie’s favorite person, but she exchanged pleasantries with her all the same.

Harford eyed Ellie’s two cups of tea. 

“Making a cuppa for you and the work husband, eh?” she said, without a trace of humor.

Ellie shot her a look. “The what??”

“You know, your work husband. DI Hardy?”

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

Harford slurped a spoonful of yoghurt. “They say that on American telly all the time. It’s when you have a coworker of the opposite sex that you’re really close to - like you are with Hardy. But usually, if you have a work husband, you’re actually married to someone else, and neither of you is, so…”

“Katie!”

“I’m just saying, Ma’am, half the station thinks you’re married already. Hardy is only ever nice to you. And you two bicker like an old married couple – not that I’m saying you’re both old, or anything.”

“This is not – “

“You spend all your time together – you might as well just be married for real.” She thought this was a tremendously clever statement, and she gave a short laugh to punctuate it.

Ellie was flustered, but tried desperately not to show it. “DI Hardy and I are work partners, that’s all. And maybe friends. But nothing more.”

“Okay then,” said Harford. “There’s a couple traffic constables that will be happy to hear that. Some of the ladies have taken to calling him “DI DILF”. I guess they don’t know him that well. They’re new.”

_Whatever happened to “Shitface”?_ Ellie wondered. She was certain she liked that better.

She left Harford with her yoghurt and stepped into Hardy’s office with his tea.

“Thought you might need some tea, since I know you didn’t sleep last night.” She set the tea on his desk.

“Good morning to you, too, Miller.” He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “You look a bit strange. Everything okay with you?”

“Oh, thank you very much,” she said indignantly, although she did feel a slight blush creeping up into her cheeks. “Um, I just had a strange conversation with DC Harford. She referred to you as my ‘work husband’.”

Hardy frowned and leaned back in his chair. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Something about being close with someone of the opposite sex at work.”

“We work closely together, Miller.”

“I’m aware of that.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His eyes looked tired. _Well, of course they do,_ thought Ellie. _The man doesn’t sleep._

“Did it bother you?” he asked.

“Well, no, I suppose not. Not really. But it was a bit weird. Apparently, there are some people around here who think we already _are_ married.”

“Hmm,” was all he said. Ellie was mildly annoyed that Hardy seemed genuinely unconcerned.

“This doesn’t bother _you_?”

“Why should it? Who cares what anyone else thinks about what we do? Even if we were married, or even, you know, _together_ , it’s nobody’s business but our own.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, and she shook her head slightly. “Wait, what? Did you say ‘together’?”

Hardy sighed wearily. “It’s an example, Miller.”

“Fine then. Are we at yours or mine tonight? My dad is at home tonight, if that matters.” She grimaced dramatically. Hardy countered with a slight face of his own.

“Mine then. Have dinner with your boys, then I can come pick you up, if you want, so you don’t have to drive home. We’ll try to get you home before midnight tonight.”

“Yes, Dear,” she teased, and left his office, leaving Hardy rolling his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another late night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, well...my one-shot ended up being two chapters, which is now going to be four chapters. I hope no one minds. I'm having way too much fun with this.

Hardy picked her up at 8, giving her time to have pizza with the boys, put Fred to bed, say goodnight to Tom (who only grunted a reply), and receive a vaguely sexist diatribe from her father about a woman’s ability to balance work and family. 

When she crawled into his car, she felt a pang of some pleasant emotion she couldn’t quite identify, and decided it was in her best interest not to attempt to define it. 

After the short drive to his house, Hardy disappeared into the kitchen to make tea, and Ellie began to set the case files strategically on the coffee table. When he returned with two steaming mugs, Ellie looked up at him.

“Do normal people work 16-hour days, or is that just us?”

“Are you questioning your chosen profession, Miller?” He set the tea down next to the files.

“Of course not. But most people go to work in the morning, then go home at night and call it a day. We eat, breathe, and sleep our jobs.” She considered her statement. “Well, _you_ don’t, since you don’t eat or sleep. You just _breathe_ yours.” And she chuckled, pleased with her cleverness, giving him a flash of her blinding smile.

Hardy gave a little half-smile, and sat in the chair opposite the sofa. “We don’t do what ‘normal’ people do. There are no regular business hours for murder or assault - or a case like this one, where the violence seems to be escalating, and if we don’t figure it out, someone’s going to get hurt.”

She nodded slowly in agreement. “When you put it that way…”

“Time is a social construct, Miller. Most people build their lives around some false sense of when it’s appropriate to eat, sleep, or go to the pub.”

“But not you. You don’t go to the pub. You don’t eat, sleep, OR go to the pub.”

Hardy raised an eyebrow.

“Something bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.”

She picked up her tea with both hands, sipping it slowly, and eyeing him over the top of the mug. He was wearing a green jumper tonight. _Almost as lovely as the blue one_ , she thought. He had once again kicked off his shoes, and she now did the same, curling her feet underneath her on the sofa.

“Do you think I’m your ‘work wife’?

“I haven’t given any thought at all to that particular line of questioning.”

“Hardy, we spend more time together than we do apart. I mean, almost as soon as we leave work, we’re back here together.”

Hardy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s not a problem - it just… _is_. I don’t think the rest of the world sees it as ‘normal’. But for us, it’s what we know. I quite like it, actually.” And then she froze. “Bloody hell, I shouldn’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“You might think I like _you_ a bit.” She hid a coy smile behind her tea mug.

“Don’t worry, Miller, I _never_ labor under that delusion.” He was looking down, so she couldn’t see if he was smiling or not.

A moment later, he clapped his hands together abruptly. “All right, as charming as all this is, can we work now?” He shifted in the chair, and then she could see the slight smirk on his face.

“Of course, _sir_.” She emphasized the ‘sir’, just to irritate him, which seemed to work. An eyebrow shot up, and he looked at her coolly. 

“You know you don’t have to call me that.”

“I do, but I say it just to see that face you’re making right now.”

“For god’s sake, Miller.”

“Fine, let’s work.”

And they did, for a few hours, poring over files and maps, throwing numerous names around, and bouncing ideas off each other until Ellie’s mind felt like mush and her eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer.

This time, when she woke up on Hardy’s sofa, the afghan tucked neatly around her, she once again looked over to find Hardy in the chair. But this time, he wasn’t reading a file – he was fast asleep, glasses still perched on his nose, file on his lap, his head awkwardly tilted to the side. _He’ll be sorry for that tomorrow,_ she thought. She considered letting him sleep in the chair, because god knows, he needed the rest, but she was certain he would sleep better in his own bed. _Come to think of it,_ _it’s a healthier option for everyone at CID if Hardy isn’t grumpy as hell tomorrow due to a bloody sore neck._

She pulled herself off the couch and went to try and gently rouse him, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Hardy?” she whispered. There was no movement other than the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She tried again, shaking him with a bit more vigor, but still nothing.

He was dead asleep. Ellie wondered if this was a normal occurrence for him – not sleeping for days, then crashing hard when his body finally decided it was time to rest. She shook her head and smiled inwardly at Alec Hardy, _such a mass of contradictions_. Then she took a moment and briefly strategized on how she could wake him without startling him. She tried a gentler tactic - taking his hand, and rubbing the top of it with her thumb. “Alec, wake up,” she murmured into his ear, several times.

It took a few tries, but he slowly began to stir, and Ellie continued rubbing his hand. He opened bleary eyes to see Ellie next to him, her hand covering his, but he seemed too dazed to notice.

“Hey,” she said. “Let’s get you to your bed so you can get some rest for a change.”

“’’M fine here.” He closed his eyes again.

“No, you’re not fine, you bloody fool. You’re exhausted. You’re going to sleep in your own bed if I have to drag you there myself.”

“You’re holding my hand.” _Ah, now he noticed._

“Don’t worry, it’s not a marriage proposal.” She gave a short laugh. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

Just as Hardy had done the night before, Ellie pulled him up by the hand. And this time he ended up in _her_ arms as he stumbled, tipsy with sleepiness. Ellie half-expected him to pull away in horror, but he didn’t. Instead, much to her surprise, he wound his arms around her back and snuggled deeper into her embrace.

“Mmm. Let’s just stay here,” he said, drowsily content. She had to admit, it felt so warm and comforting to have their arms wrapped around each other that she had no desire to move. _Is this what I’ve been missing all along? Why didn’t I do this years ago? What the hell is wrong with me?_ She felt a warm blush creep to her cheeks. 

“As much as I’m enjoying this, Alec Hardy, you will not deter me from my mission,” she said, with mock sternness and a slight breathlessness.

“You’re _enjoying_ it.” he slurred.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“S’what you said.”

“Shut up, you knob,” she said, fondly. “You’re not even awake, and you’re still arguing with me.” Reluctantly, she pulled away from the embrace. “Seriously, Hardy. Go to bed.” She turned him around, grabbed him by the shoulders, and gently pushed him forward, toward the bedroom. He groaned, but did not resist.

His bedsheets were pristine, as though they hadn’t been disturbed in days, and Ellie turned them down, watching out of the corner of her eye as Hardy stood there teetering. She stood in front of him and removed his glasses slowly, placing them on his bedside table. Then she sat him down on the edge of the bed and removed his jumper, carefully easing it off over his head. She stopped at his shirt, uncertain if removing it was a step across some invisible line. _Best not to cross it – at least not today._ The mere _thought_ of crossing that line, or _any_ line with him, made her heart race, and as she so often did, she pushed the thought away.

She sat down next to him on the bed. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open, and his head dropped to her shoulder. Ellie was completely disarmed by this soft and oddly cuddly version of her gruff partner. She brushed an impulsive kiss onto his cheek. “I’m leaving now. I’m going to drive your car home, and I’ll pick you up at 7:30.” She gave a little laugh. “And I’ll leave you a note in case you didn’t hear anything I just said.” 

“Mmkay,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“Let’s get your feet up, okay?” She reached down to pull his feet onto the bed, then pulled the covers up over him. His eyes were closed now, and she couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“Goodnight, Alec,” she said quietly, and turned to leave. On her way out of the room, she heard a lazy, sleepy drawl:

“You called me Alec.” 

Ellie grinned all the way home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complications arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely responses so far. I appreciate them all!

When she picked him up in his car the next morning, Hardy looked almost… _cheerful_ , Ellie noted. His usually dour expression was missing, replaced with something softer and amiable.

“Wow,” she said, incredulous. “I wish I had known that it only takes a few hours’ sleep to turn you into someone who is _almost_ pleasant to be around.”

“That’s not true. I’m quite pleasant. I just happen to be the only one who knows it.” 

“God, Hardy, was that humor? I don’t even know who you are today.”

They both smiled in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Hardy cleared his throat.

“Thank you – for making sure I made it, uh, to bed.” She found it somewhat charming that he was clearly embarrassed by this.

“Well, I wasn’t going to leave you sleeping in that uncomfortable chair. We would have _all_ paid for that today.” She chuckled, and even Hardy seemed amused at his own expense.

Their arrival together at CID that morning was met with a slight stir – not only because they arrived together, but also because Hardy had actually _smiled_ and announced a general “good morning” to everyone when he walked in. And more than two hours after arriving, he still hadn’t yelled at anyone.

When Ellie went to make tea later in the morning, Katie Harford followed her furtively, looking over her shoulder to ensure privacy.

“What did you _do_?” she whispered conspiratorially.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“What did you do to DI Hardy?”

Ellie took a step back, frowning. “What would make you think that I did _anything_ to Hardy?”

“Oh, come on,” said Harford, “You came in together, he hasn’t yelled at anyone yet, and he’s happier than I’ve probably ever seen him...” Her eyes widened. “Did you shag him??”

“What the – ?? NO, I bloody well didn’t, and even if I had, it’s none of your business! Why is _any_ of this anyone’s bloody business?!” Ellie’s face flushed bright red with anger. She turned and stormed out of the building, leaving the tea unmade, and all of CID gaping after her. 

As she was leaving, she heard Hardy berating Harford. “What the hell is wrong with you??” 

_Well, at least it lasted two hours,_ she thought _._

She found herself on the steps in front of CID, and a few moments later, Hardy was there next to her.

“You okay?” he asked. 

Ellie wasn’t sure how to answer. “You didn’t have to come after me,” she said quietly, looking straight ahead. “Why do you always come after me?”

Hardy said nothing, and Ellie turned to look at him. “You didn’t answer me.”

He shrugged. “I thought it was rhetorical.”

“Knob.”

“Why _wouldn’t_ I come after you?”

“Everyone already thinks we’re married or shagging or god knows what, so every time I’m upset and you follow to check up on me, it plays right into their hands.”

He kicked a pebble off the step. “So what you’re saying is that it’s more important what they _think_ we’re doing than it is for me to attempt to provide you with some sort of comfort, albeit incompetently?”

She looked down. “Well, now it sounds stupid.”

“It _is_ stupid,” he said. She smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Oi!” He rubbed the spot with his fingers.

“Thanks a lot for the comfort,” she said drily. 

“I’ve already acknowledged my incompetence.”

She held her hands to her cheeks. “I’m just so bloody sick of this! It never ends! All through Joe’s trial, and now literally _years_ later!” 

They were both silent for a minute. Hardy ran his hand through his hair, which ruffled in the breeze. Ellie turned and looked up at him. _He looks so handsome_ , she thought, and she wanted nothing more than to embrace him again, and feel the warmth of his arms around her. But instead, she fell back on her defenses, as usual, and brushed the thought aside.

“Why is everyone so concerned with our love life?” She immediately blushed, realizing what she had said. “Not that we have a - you know what I mean! Why does everyone think we _have_ a love life?”

Hardy was again silent. _Suspiciously so_ , thought Ellie. She shook his arm lightly.

“Why are you being quiet?”

Hardy pondered this for a moment. “I have my own theories about everything,” he admitted. “But perhaps I don’t wish to share them at this time.”

“Well, that’s a shitty answer.”

“For god’s sake, Miller, what do you want from me?” He threw his hands in the air. “I couldn’t give two fucks if anyone thinks we’re shagging, or married, or in love, or whichever bloody trite relationship status they feel compelled to label us with. All I care about is that _you’re_ okay, because that’s really the only thing that matters to me.”

There was dead silence. Hardy sighed with resignation. “It’s not a great mystery why people think such things about us,” he said, simply. 

Ellie’s thoughts were racing, and she took a moment to try and rein them in.

“Because we spend so much time together,” she reasoned.

“Partially.”

“Because you come after me when I’m upset.”

“Probably.”

“Because I’m the only person you don’t yell at – on most days.” Ellie smiled slightly.

“True.”

Ellie looked at him then, and he was staring intently at her with his deep, expressive eyes, and she was suddenly overcome with a reality she had been dismissively rejecting for quite some time. She felt her body flood with warmth.

“Because you actually _feel_ that way about me,” she said, breathlessly. 

Ellie’s face grew warm as she blushed deeply. She closed her eyes, letting the breeze cool her hot face. She felt a surge of emotion she couldn’t place. Her first thought was of something tangibly pleasant spreading in her chest, making her breath come out in short bursts. But in the next moment, that same emotion was too frightening to be soothing. Instead, it turned feral, and she instinctively grasped onto its wildness, relegating any comforting thoughts to the background. She tried desperately to regain a sense of control.

When she opened her eyes again, Hardy was watching her intently. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked, and it sounded like a demand, much sharper than she had intended. Hardy’s eyes darkened. He looked weary again, and vaguely uncomfortable.

“I didn’t see the point. We get on well, you and I, and I didn’t see any reason to complicate that with one-sided affection.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she found herself saying, as though her mouth belonged to someone else. _Christ,_ _why did I say that? That’s not what I meant!_

“Right. Well.”

Hardy abruptly stood up. “I should be getting back.” He began to walk back towards CID, but stopped after a few steps and turned back. “Let’s take a night off tonight. Come back at it tomorrow with fresh eyes and clear heads, yeah?” His voice was flat, devoid of expression.

Ellie nodded dumbly, and watched as he walked back into the building. She sat unmoving for a few minutes, burdened by the knowledge that she had so obviously hurt him. She had heard it in his voice, seen it in his eyes, and had done nothing to stop it. She had been completely unprepared to explain the emotional typhoon she was experiencing – so instead, her default was to brush him off. _Cruel_ , she thought. _What have I done?_

When she walked back into CID, Hardy’s door was shut, and it stayed shut for much of the rest of the day. Ellie’s guilt grew increasingly with each passing hour, and it didn’t help that everyone at CID seemed to be giving her extra space, making her even more self-conscious. As the afternoon dragged on, she was having difficulty focusing on even the most menial tasks, and by 4:00, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She made Hardy some tea, summoned the nerve, and knocked on his door.

“What?”

She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. He looked up from his desk. His eyes were impassive behind his glasses, and her courage felt fleeting.

“What do you want, Miller?” She took a deep breath.

“I brought you tea.”

“You didn’t have to – “

“Shut up. I make you tea all the time, so this is no different. And I know you haven’t had any, because you’ve been in here brooding all day.” He shot her a sharp glance.

“Is there something you need, or can I get back to more urgent issues?”

“Yes,” she said, reaching over his desk to set the tea next to him. “I need you to clear a space for me on your sofa tonight, because I do NOT plan to stay home.”

“Miller, I thought I said – “

“I don’t care what you said. We have some work to do, you and I.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Fine, your choice. I’ll bring the files home with me.”

Ellie folded her arms across her chest. Her heart was racing.

“Oh, I’m not just talking about this case.”

Hardy’s eyes widened. He inhaled through his nose and didn’t seem to exhale. “What _are_ you talking about, then?”

She fixed him with a serious gaze and attempted to keep her voice from wavering. “You said earlier you didn’t want to complicate things with one-sided affection.”

Hardy froze. “Aye,” he said softly. Ellie raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think it’s one-sided?”

His breathing seemed to stop. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked hoarsely, almost a whisper. 

She gave him a coy smile, and turned to leave. 

“You’re a detective,” said Ellie. “You figure it out.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Ellie sort things out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's the last chapter. It's super dialogue-heavy. I changed my plan about a zillion times, but I'm okay with the result. Thanks for going on this ride with me.

Chapter 4

The evening hadn’t been going as she had planned. Dinner at her house had turned into squabbles with both her dad and Tom, with the former grousing about her career choice, and the latter willfully challenging her policy on school night video game time limits. Her own nervous energy was not helping matters at all. 

In her earlier interaction with Hardy, she had tried to appear both fearless and flirtatious, but now she felt as though any bravado she previously had seemed to evaporate sometime during dinner. What’s more, she hadn’t had much time to formulate a strategy for their impending conversation – much less sort out her own emotional state of affairs. She felt every bit as unprepared as she had earlier in the day, when she had communicated the entire opposite of what she was feeling to Hardy.

To make matters worse, she was late to Hardy’s. She grabbed her phone and shot off a text.

**‘Running a bit behind. Don’t go anywhere.’**

A few seconds later her phone vibrated.

**‘Where would I go?’**

Despite her nerves, she smiled. His awkwardness, even in a text, was endearing, and she found it unintentionally calming. 

After finally finishing a bedtime story (read to a squirmy and wide-awake Fred), Ellie managed to say goodnight to everyone, ignore her father’s disapproval, and drive up to Hardy’s. _Without a game plan_ , she thought ruefully. Her nerves were frayed as she knocked on his door.

Hardy hadn’t changed clothes. He was still wearing his jacket and tie, even though it was almost nine. He answered the door holding a file, and pocketed his glasses. The sight of him made her heart flutter, and it took her by surprise. _Get ahold of yourself, Ellie!_ she thought.

“If you’re planning to sleep in your clothes again, the tie is a definite choking hazard,” she said, charging into the doorway. 

“Good evening to you as well,” he said, closing the door behind her and rolling his eyes. 

She immediately headed to the sofa and sat down. Her nerves were making her feel reckless. _And ridiculous_ , she thought.

“Tell me you have something made of alcohol in this house.”

“Uh – “

“Bottle of wine, anything?”

Hardy scratched his head. “I’ll take a look.” He disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of some inexpensive red and a glass. He put it on the coffee table in front of Ellie. “S’all I’ve got,” he announced. 

“Great, but how am I supposed to open it?”

“Oh shit, sorry!” 

And he ran back to the kitchen for an opener. This was how their evening began.

Hardy wouldn’t stop talking about the case, even though he had stated that nothing could be accomplished until they received DNA results back from evidence found at one of the crime scenes. Ellie sipped her wine and listened patiently for a bit, but quickly wearied of work talk when she had so many other things on her mind.

“Hardy?” she interrupted, cutting into a lengthy pontification she wasn’t really listening to.

“Huh?”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“I’m not here to talk about work. You told me yourself there wasn’t really anything to talk about, and yet here you are, still talking about it.”

“Oh.” 

Hardy was sitting in the chair across from Ellie on the sofa, leaning forward onto his knees. He shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his feet. _Here goes nothing,_ thought Ellie.

“Hardy… Alec.” She saw him grimace a bit when he heard his first name, and he continued to examine his oxfords. “We need to discuss this. Whatever _this_ is. Us.”

Hardy looked up then, but still wouldn’t meet her eye. He stared straight ahead.

“Miller, it’s alright. You were right. It’s probably best to just leave things as they are.”

Ellie cocked her head slightly. “But what if I don’t want to leave things as they are?”

“But that’s what you said earlier…”

“You bloody idiot, that’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, great, that clears everything up! How could I possibly pick up any mixed signals from such an overabundance of stunning clarity?”

“Don’t be a smart arse.”

Hardy threw up his hands. “I have no idea what’s happening.” He slumped back into the chair, defeated. “Why are we doing this now?”

Ellie also flopped backward into the sofa cushion and sighed deeply. “I don’t know.”

They sat in slumped silence for a moment. Ellie twirled a long lock of hair around her index finger.

“I think all this talk of ‘work husbands’ and ‘work wives’ has me confused,” she said. “But it doesn’t seem to affect you it all.” 

Hardy gave a little half-smile. “I already know how I feel. _I’m_ not the one who’s confused. And I’ve already told you that how people perceive us is not the least bit important to me. Not anymore.”

“Not _anymore_?” Ellie sat up again, intrigued.

“It used to be. Back during Joe’s trial. For your sake, though, not mine.”

Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Explain, please.”

Hardy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” He huffed a short sigh. “I left Broadchurch partially because of those rumors. It wasn’t fair to you. You were helping me with Sandbrook. I needed your help, and you were the one who suffered for it. I figured the best thing I could do for you was to take myself out of the picture all together.”

Ellie’s mouth gaped open in shock. “You left because of me?”

“Aye,” he said, softly. “I wasn’t good for you.”

She didn’t push him to elaborate. Ellie thought she understood the multiple meanings without explanation. Her heart _burned_ inside her chest.

“But you came back,” she whispered.

“Time passed,” was all he said.

“That’s not really an answer.”

“You didn’t really ask a question.”

There was another silence. Hardy ran his hand through his hair.

“Miller.”

“My name is _Ellie_ , to everyone but you.”

His eyes were wide, and he shook his head as though in disbelief.

“ _Ellie.”_ He took a deep breath. “Whatever _this_ is, whatever _we_ are – it has to be up to you,” he said, gently.

Ellie frowned. “You’re going to put it all on me? Why doesn’t your opinion count for anything?”

Hardy shrugged dismissively. “You already know how I feel.”

Her frown deepened. “No, I actually don’t. You’ve inferred, but you haven’t _told_ me anything.”

He looked everywhere but at her, and gave a resigned sigh. “You deserve better than me. You’ve always deserved better.”

Ellie felt her blood go hot. She stood up abruptly. “Oh, so you say you want _me_ to make a decision, but you’ve already made the decisions for me? And you never bothered to tell me how you felt or why you left! How fucking dare you leave me in the dark like some bloody child incapable of realizing my own needs!” She glared down at him fiercely. Unconsciously, he stood up to face her, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. He looked miserable. _Serves him right_ , she thought.

“Ellie, I’m sorry. I’m terrible at this. Please sit down.”

She looked at his forlorn expression, slumped shoulders, fists jammed into his pockets, and she felt herself soften – but only a bit.  
  
“I don’t want to sit down,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m impatiently waiting for you to explain this to me.”

She would have stared him down had he been looking at her, but he was not. 

“Right,” he said. He cleared his throat and _finally_ looked directly at her. “Ah, okay, we, uh, spend a great deal of time together, because we work closely during the day, and, ah, sometimes late into the night, when we have a case we can’t figure out.”

Ellie clicked her tongue. “Christ, Hardy, tell me something that isn’t written in our personnel files.”

His eyes flashed. “Would you let me finish?” He fished his hands out of his trouser pockets and threw them down by his sides, seemingly unsure what to do with them. 

“What I’m trying to say is," and he rolled his eyes as though he couldn't believe he would continue his thought out loud, "I would commit the bloody crimes _myself_ if it gave me an excuse to spend every evening working them out with you.”

He fell back into the chair, exhausted by this admission. Ellie’s heart was beating wildly. 

“Oh,” she said, breathlessly, in a voice she didn’t recognize. “I don’t know whether to arrest you or kiss you.” 

He looked up at her, mystified. “One of those options sounds infinitely more appealing than the other,” he growled, and Ellie didn’t recognize his voice either.

She slowly lowered herself onto the sofa and perched on the edge. “I assume you mean arresting you, since you said you wanted to go back to the way it was before. If I kissed you, everything would be different.”

“Maybe I didn’t mean that.”

“Oh, who’s having issues with mixed signals now?” She sounded more like herself now, but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Besides,” she said, “I can’t kiss you. You’re over there, and I’m over here, and there’s a coffee table in between us.”

Hardy stood up quickly. “Should I move the table?”

“No, you knob,” Ellie laughed. “Just come and sit next to me. In case you didn’t realize, there’s room for more than one person on a sofa.”

“Uh, right.” And instantly, he was next to her, facing her, his hands folded in his lap.

“Ellie,” he said, “are you sure you - ?”

She cut him off when her lips pressed against his. His eyes went wide. 

“Stop talking,” she said, pulling back, her eyes shining.

Hardy’s eyes flitted wildly all over her face. His hand went up to her cheek, caressing it gently, before he slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her in to him. Their lips met again, this time longer, hungrier, more ferocious. When they broke apart, they were panting slightly, glassy-eyed. 

“You okay?” Hardy asked earnestly, smoothing her hair.

Ellie nodded wordlessly, trying to catch her breath.

“Is this what ‘work spouses’ do?” he asked, innocently. “If so, I’m all for it.”

“You’ve quite changed your tune, Alec Hardy.”

“I was coerced.” He kissed her neck gently. She closed her eyes.

“You participated,” she breathed. Her body was tingling. He moved up to her lips again.

“Ellie,” he said, as they again pulled apart breathlessly, “This may sound ridiculous, but I wanted to let you know how much it meant to me that you cared enough to make sure I didn’t sleep in the chair last night. I’m not used to having someone care for me like that.” He was looking at her with those big brown eyes, and she was completely drawn in. Ellie felt her stomach flip.

“Did you know that you’re very cuddly when you’re half-asleep?”

Ellie saw his blush through his beard, and kissed him on the cheek. She twined her fingers with his. He pulled her into an embrace, leaning back on the sofa, Ellie resting on his chest. She rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb.

“This is what I did last night, to get you to wake up,” she said. “All I wanted was for you to get some rest, but I couldn’t help thinking about lines I hadn’t yet crossed with you. I think I’ve known that I wanted to cross some of those lines for a while, but I wouldn’t let myself think about them.” She noticed he was still wearing a tie, and she flattened it against his chest.

“We have a strange history, you and I,” she said, laughing. “If you had told me several years ago that this is how we’d spend this evening, I’d have called the psych ward on you.”

“Fair point,” he said, “but I have follow-up questions. First, is this how we’re going to spend _this_ evening only?”

Ellie turned to look up at him. “I have no intention of snogging you for one night only. I am firmly of the mind that we should make this a regular occurrence.”

“Duly noted and approved,” he said, with mock seriousness. “My second follow-up question concerns those lines you are planning on crossing. Exactly what are they, and when are you planning on crossing them?”

Ellie smiled wickedly, kissed him languidly, and began loosening his tie. “I can’t tell you,” she said, “unless you take me to your bedroom.”

Much later, after lines had been crossed and blurred and utterly demolished, and they were tangled in each other’s arms, Ellie listened to Hardy’s rhythmic breathing as he began to fade into sleep.

“Alec,” she whispered, kissing his chin.

“Mmm.”

“I have to go.”

“Stay.”

“That’s a line we don’t get to cross yet. My kids won’t understand if I’m not there in the morning. And I don’t even want to think of my dad.” She kissed him again. “I’m going to go now, but I’m leaving my heart here, with you, Alec Hardy. Take care of it, will you?” It sounded soppy when she said it, but she didn't care.

“Aye, lass,” he said sleepily. “Won’t hurt you. Not ever.”

Ellie didn’t completely understand why, but she knew he meant it, even if he hadn't been completely awake when he said it. For some reason, Alec didn’t believe himself worthy of love or affection, but would bend over backwards to protect those he loved. She planned to explore a myriad of ways to prove to Alec Hardy that he was most definitely worthy of both.

She kissed him one more time, and pulled herself reluctantly out of his warm embrace. As she dressed, she looked over at his sleeping figure, and a sensation of warmth came over her. She had been worried it might be weird, but all she felt was contentment – something she hadn't felt in years. She hadn’t known it would take a gruff, brooding Scot to make her feel this way, but now that she knew – she had no plans to give him up.

She went back to him and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Alec. Sleep well.”

“’’Night, Ellie. Love you…”

For the second night in a row, Ellie smiled all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! Got a bit soppy there at the end. :-) Thanks for your supportive comments!


End file.
